


Deep

by RooOJoy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Sirens, Underwater, mermaid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-09 02:53:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20468747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RooOJoy/pseuds/RooOJoy
Summary: Hermione's life has changed drastically after the battles she has faced throughout her short life. When someone comes in search of her, will she allow him to help her, or will it be impossible? Will fate intervene, or will her identity become merely a tale in the history books?





	1. Welcoming Death

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [DramioneFanfictionForum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramioneFanfictionForum/pseuds/DramioneFanfictionForum) in the [2019SoundsLikeDramione](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/2019SoundsLikeDramione) collection. 

> Disclaimer: The characters do not belong to me, but are property of JKR And Warner Bros and no copyright infringement is intended. 
> 
> This story was written for the Facebook group, Dramione Fanfiction Forum's Sounds Like a Dramione competition. The prompt for my story was "It's so easy to fall for each other, I'm just hoping we catch one another..." from  
Promises by Cheat Codes (feat. Demi Lovato).
> 
> I'm so grateful for the support, love, and friendship of both Rosella_Burgundy & I_was_BOTWP for their hard work they put into making this story what it was. Thank you!

A swirling breeze swept her cream coloured robes around her, and she shuddered a bit as the chill from the ocean made the hairs on her arms raised. She pulled the hood down from her head, letting the salty air blow her curls from her shoulders to tangle themselves. At one point in her life, she would have found the sensation invigorating - making her feel alive like nothing but the wind and the sound of the ocean could do. Now, she felt empty. 

Waves crashed around the rocky cove below the fifty-metre cliff she stood on. She set her eyes upon the horizon, the fading sun leaving behind traces of oranges and pinks across the low hanging clouds. Once upon a time, she would have found the sight beautiful, she would have inhaled the scent of the ocean, and it would have calmed her world. Now, it did nothing. 

The dull and empty feeling of her soul was all she could feel, and that wasn’t much of a feeling as more of a thought. Too much had happened. She had endured too much pain. The war was over, and the people around her were moving on with their lives. They were picking up the pieces and fitting them back together. That wasn’t possible for her. No, she had lost it all, and while many would argue of everything she still had, it wasn’t enough. Her heart had been knifed in two. 

Closing her eyes, she could almost feel the taste of him on her lips. It had been too long since she had felt the warmth of his embrace. A tear slid down her cheek as she choked back a sob at the thought of his broken body lying in the corridor, a pile of stone hiding half of him. She remembered after the battle, watching as his family surrounded his body, grief evident to everyone in the Great Hall. She stood by, not able to do anything but stare on to the man she cared so much for, but no one else knew - except maybe George. But his life was forever altered as well. Fred was gone, and that was the first blow to her heart. 

The second came only two weeks later - her parents were gone too. After painstakingly hunting them down in Australia, she had found out they had died six months previously in a mugging gone bad. The police report she was able to procure left her sickened at the disgusting way her parents were maimed before being left to die in a dark alley. 

There was nothing left; she couldn’t feel the beat of her heart against her ribs. Her limbs were heavy and hard to move, and the rock that had become her stomach lurched heavily in her gut. 

“It’s okay,” Hermione whispered to herself. “The other side is waiting for you. They’re waiting for you.” 

Now, she was just an obstacle against nature; a void against the wind blowing heavily from the east. The feeling of spreading her arms wide and gently falling forwards wasn’t scary or regrettable. This was the first relief she had felt for quite some time. 

The fall didn’t take nearly as long as she thought it would, and as she hit the water, she didn’t feel the cold of the swirling ocean. The hurt that broke her body and dimmed her soul was welcoming; it was like a friend that embraced her. Her mind grew dark, and the tiny spots that danced against her lids were beginning to fade. She gladly let her mind go, and her heart stopped beating.


	2. Siren or Mermaid

“Look, there is something there in the depths of the bay.” Marina pointed to the revolving mass of what seemed to be a cloud under the sea. Her pale skin reflected the light that bounced on the surface of the water. 

Maressa put her palm over the younger maid's forearm, halting her progress towards the unknown obtrusion. “We need to get an elder. I can feel the magic, and whatever it is, it’s dying.” 

A moment later Marina and Maressa were back with the first elder they could find. Thalassa was a fair and even elder, their luck in finding her first in their favour. She approached the object that danced with the current, just under the surface. The younger maids stayed back as Thalassa held them behind her. She swam closer, her staff of shells and gems in front of her like a shield of protection. “It’s a human,” she shouted over her shoulder. After studying the body a moment more, she grabbed its wrist and began the descent into the dark depths of the sea. 

Thalassa had seen humans before, it wasn’t something unknown in their area. Above the water, on the land, many populated the earth, but it wasn’t often that one entered the magics of their waters. For centuries, the sirens and mermaids fought for dominance of these waters, and after the war, their clan had put up strong barriers to keep the human-folk away. No longer did the Sirens rule the waters to lure in unsuspecting sailors. They were a peaceful group of mermaids, and few mermen, that only sought to live their lives in the deep sea and to be left alone by the magic folk. 

So how was it that this human woman entered their sacred area? As she pulled the dead girl farther into the depths of the ocean, the water getting colder and the light disappearing, she lit her staff making the ripple around them glow with light that could be seen only by the eye of a mermaid. She pulled her down to their home, a low sandy bottom that was surrounded by mountains and crags of rock and reef. 

“Thalassa, what have you got there?” A booming voice echoed from behind her. She whirled her tail to shift her movement around, then moved it softly back and forth to not lose her rooted place. Setting eyes on Kae, one of the elder mermen, she frowned. She wasn’t fond of him, and he knew it. Her frown quickly formed into a sneer, her heart gaining a rapid rhythm as she prepared to keep her catch. 

“Kae, this is no concern of yours. As an elder, I am free to move around the waters as I see fit.” 

His look of disdain was easily noticeable, and he swam closer to her. As he stopped only an arm’s length away, he began to circle her, his strong tail flexing as he moved. “Is this a human?” 

Thalassa held her head high, her long black locks falling nearly to the top of her golden tail. “Yes, it is. And it is no concern of yours.” Her tone held a note of finality in it, but that seemed to only intrigue Kae more as his brows rose high on his head and his lips rounded into a silent, _ oh. _

She held her stance, the human grasped firmly in her palm beginning to weigh her down, and she worked harder to keep at a level place as the merman set her with a calculated stare. He looked at her for a few minutes, the tension between the two becoming increasingly charged as neither spoke, and she refused to lower her eyes, staff, or catch in defeat. Kae flexed his chest muscles as he brought his hand to his chin, rubbing the skin as he pondered over her. 

At last, he spoke, “Fine, take your catch, but you know I have to inform the Chieftess.” 

“Do what you must,” Thalassa said, her voice irritated as she turned from him and made her way to her home, a crevice inside one of the deepest crags of their boundary.

Inside the cave, the lights around the room immediately lit to her presence. Thalassa heaved the floating body behind her up and onto a flat rock. Leaving the human there, she quickly turned around to make her way to the long shelf laid into a wall. She flitted past the bottles with swirling substances dancing inside the corked glass, and shoved aside the lengths of seaweed, rolled tightly up and bound together. Moving aside trinkets and other healing salves, she searched around until at last, at the back of the shelf, her fingers wrapped themselves around what she needed. 

It was a smooth and flat rock, roughly the size of a baby dolphin. She needed to lift it with two hands, and she struggled to get it out without upending all of the shelf’s contents. At last, the large stone was removed from its safe place and she sat down with it across her tail fin. 

Reading the tablet was easy enough, some parts worn smooth, but as she ran the tips of her fingers over the lines, they would become visible and raised once again. The magic of the stone was one of a kind. 

_ Beneath the depths of the sea, lives many beings. And with it many magics. Not every beast is gifted with magic, and not every magic has a source for its energy. There can be many outlets for the unknown magics, and with it, the species of Sirens and Mermaids were borne. _

_ Sirens, from the beginning, were borne from the violent, watery deaths of human women. These souls died from being murdered at sea, their bodies being thrown into the water shortly after their deaths. They are the ones that sing to sailors - or anyone - and drag them to their deaths when they get too close. This is a result of Dark Magic and what can happen when the face of evil leaves its mark in the other world beyond the hard earth. _

_ Mermaids, however, were borne from someone who has a great love for the sea, or any other body of water dies. These deaths of humans had to be peaceful. Light magic is what brought the Mermaids to the watery parts of the earth. _

_ Mermaids and Sirens are borne only on the Winter Solstice. _

Thalassa was an elder of the tribe, but not because of her age. She was a descendant from the lone family of sirens that left the ways of their ancestors and helped to end the war fighting alongside the mermaids. It is what saved Thalassa, and the clan, when her great-great-grandfather fell in love with a mermaid - his clan was saved from the dark curse and since then the siren curse was broken amongst her kind. 

Being the last of her family, she knew that once she died, it was the end of her family lineage. It was never something that mattered much to her, she was happy in this place where her family had always dwelled. The thought, though, that she could maybe have a descendant in some form came to the front of her brain the moment she realized this human, this woman that possessed magic in her blood, could possibly be changed. 

The Winter Solstice began at midnight, and by then she would hopefully be prepared to turn this fair maiden into either a mermaid or siren. If only she knew if this woman died peacefully or if she was murdered. 

* * *

Hermione slowly opened her eyes. They felt heavy like a weight was pushing them down. When she was finally able to pry them apart, her sight was blurry. It took her a moment to adjust, so she piqued her ears to see if she could hear anything. She didn’t remember anything, and she had no clue where she was; it almost felt like a dream. 

Her hearing felt clogged somehow like she was in a tunnel, but the longer she waited and the harder she focussed, the distorted noises ebbed away and she was able to hear quite well. There were voices nearby, but hushed. 

“Thalassa, what have you done? This magic hasn’t been attempted in a century, and you know that it didn’t turn out well. There is a reason we have chosen to step away from this siren magic. I know it is your heritage, but it could prove damning to our world. What if you created a siren?” 

“Nonsense,” another voice returned, her tone icy. “And even if I had, how is that so bad? You forget, Orabel, I am the last descendant of the siren line in this clan.” 

“I have not forgotten who you are. However, I am Chieftess, and you should have brought your plans to the other elders. Instead, I had to learn from Kae.” 

The way the female voice sneered the last word, Hermione assumed she didn’t like how she had heard the news. Hermione couldn’t put any rhyme or reason to the conversation though. What were they talking of sirens? The voices drifted away, and Hermione began to focus on her body. Her eyes were becoming much more clear, and she could see that she was in a cave of sorts. There were lights somewhere that illuminated the ceiling of rocks and green grasses swaying overhead. 

Her brain quickly registered that nothing green should grow in a cave and she immediately began to panic. Her body, she realized, was frozen. She couldn’t move her head to look to her side, and her limbs felt numb and heavy; like someone had hexed her with the Body-bind Curse. Her brain worked on overdrive, attempting to control her rapidly beating heart. 

_ Focus! Control your emotions, and use your wits, Hermione! _ She attempted to give herself a pep talk, and she focused on her breathing until her heart slowed down and her stomach began to unclench itself from the knots she had worked up. With a shuddering breath, she began to log her body parts. She blinked and felt her eyes close. Then, she attempted to move her fingertips and felt that they wiggled effortlessly. Good, she thought to herself, my whole body is not bound. She, then, worked to move her toes and nothing. She couldn’t feel her feet, but she could feel the lower half of her body - it was different though. 

Straining herself, she worked to lift her legs, but the only thing she could see was a length of deep purple scales that she quickly registered looked like a mermaid’s tail. She let her muscles relax, and the shimmering purple disappeared. Tightening her stomach muscles, she attempted to lift her toes, but again all she could see was a tail fin. Before her brain could begin to figure out what was happening, the voices grew louder and reverberated against the stones. 

“Ah, see Orabel, she’s waking. Come, let’s tell her, together, what has happened.” 

Hermione attempted to turn her head, but it was in vain. She moved her eyes as far to the side as she could to see who was talking and who she quickly realized was approaching her. _ Just breathe. You don’t know what is happening - they could be helping you. _

A woman came into her line of sight, and Hermione noted her long dark locks, straight and flowing out behind her. Her skin was dark, but she had the most beautiful blue eyes. They glittered the way the water does when the sun hits it. She smiled, and Hermione noted with relief, that it reached her eyes. 

“Hello. I’m sure you must be wondering what has happened to you. I will release the hold over your head after I explain to you the details. This is Orabel.” The woman gestured to her side, and another woman came into view. This woman was much older than the dark lady. Her hair was long and flowing too, although it wasn’t black, but rather a shade of white that shifted into colours of blue, pink, and purple as she moved. Her skin was pale, but she seemed kind as the lines against her eyes crinkled, and she smiled down on her. 

“Darling, what is your name?” Orabel asked her, her voice light and airy. 

Hermione knew her name, but her voice seemed too stricken. Her brain told her lips to open and her mouth to move, but nothing happened. 

“It’s the hold. I’ll release it. Please, try not to move much until we know you’re okay and fully transfor-,” the dark one spluttered over her wording, but finished with a kind tilt of her head, “healed.”

Hermione waited and soon enough the weight on her head was free, and she could move it easily. Taking heed to the advice that was given to her, she lifted her head a bit and considered the two women. Her voice felt tired and as though there was pressure on it, but she looked at the woman named Orabel and answered her questions. 

“My name is Hermione. Please, can you tell me where I am and how I got here? I don’t remember anything.” 

Both women smiled at her before exchanging glances with one another. Hermione wasn’t the most observant of people, but it was hard to not notice the glee and triumphant look on the younger woman’s face, while the older looked more hesitant. 

It was the younger woman that then turned back to her. Her voice shook with anticipation, much like one Hermione would don when she talked passionately about something she had just learned. “Hermione, my name is Thalassa. I found you in the shallow waters of the bay.” 

Hermione's brows knitted together in confusion, but she listened closely as the woman paused before continuing. “I couldn’t save you; you were already dead when I arrived. It was luck that you were found just mere hours before the Winter Solstice, and I was able to transform you with the help of magic that has lasted centuries amongst my kind.” 

Again the woman smiled, and she brought her hands together in delight. Hermione waited for the woman to continue, but she seemed to be done. 

“Can you be more specific about _ dead _ and _ transform _?” 

The woman’s eyes narrowed in confusion for a moment before Orabel answered for her. “Hermione. Your human form died. We don’t know how. Honestly, we’re a bit curious how you ended up in our territory as we have it warded against humans, but that’s not for discussion at the present. Thalassa has performed magic,” Hermione noted Orabel paused to give the other woman a stern gaze, “to transform you. The magic she conjured would leave you alive as either a siren or a mermaid.” 

Hermione gasped, bringing her hands up to her mouth. A thin sheen of sweat whispered over her skin and she clawed at her belly, the contents swirling inside. She sat up observing what should have been her legs, and all the pieces fell into place as she looked down at what was her tail fin, an expanse of dark and light violet scales. 

“It seems as though you are a maid as a siren would have very dark hair. Thalassa here, is a siren, but her family has renounced their dark ways. She will teach you the ways of how we live. She will be your mother of sorts.” 

Hermione’s mind was reeling with questions, but only one was coming to the tip of her lips. “I don’t remember hardly anything . . . What happened?” 

The younger of the women, Hermione now looked at her knowing her name as Thalassa, looked on her with kind sympathy. “It will come back to you. I know this is a lot. Let’s just take it moment by moment.” 


	3. Scarred Memories

To say it took some getting used was an understatement. Hermione sat in shock for a good hour before her curiosity began to rouse, and she began moving her tail to see its effects. The sensation of being underwater was also something of a wonder, but she found it extremely pleasant. 

Looking back at her first few months of being a mermaid, she was eternally grateful that her past was lost to her. The last few weeks, though, had been hard. Tiny memories kept leaking back into her consciousness like nightmares. 

At first, visions of good things flooded her mind as something underwater would trigger the past. The memories played like a film in her mind, but affections never mingled with them. She could tell they were pleasant by the emotions easily displayed on the faces her mind conjured up, but her own never fluttered. 

“Lass,” she now affectionately called the siren that helped her adjust to this new life, “why is it that I can remember some things, but I don’t feel happy or sad with them?” 

The young siren paused in her braiding of seaweed and looked at her. “Maybe you’re repressing them. Have you remembered how you died?” 

Hermione shook her head. “No, not yet.” 

Nodding, Thalassa continued. “Don’t fret. It will come soon, I’m sure.” 

That’s what troubled Hermione the most, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know how she died. As the images of her previous life became more distinct, they also grew darker. She saw images of herself that made her think her previous self suffered from anxiety. There were two boys, she knew them as Harry and Ron, but while her former self wrapped her arms protectively around them, they did things that made her feel secluded, left out, and an outcast. She didn’t understand what was happening. 

The thing she felt the most confident in, was her knowledge. It wasn’t but a couple of days post-transformation, that all the reading she had ever done, came flooding back to her. She not only could placate herself with mermaid and siren knowledge, but she shared a wealth of information about many branches of magic with the elders of the clan. 

It was the day Lass had taken her to the ruins of the war between the sirens and maids that the onslaught of horrible memories plagued her. As soon as they swam into the territory, she could feel the dark magic that permeated the waters. Lights lit at their arrival, giving an eerie glow across what seemed to be the ruins of a once-grand fortress. 

Faltering mid-stroke, her eyes blurred as a vision came over her: 

_ The grounds of a great castle stood dim, the only light coming from a pale moon and shining stars. The grass was littered with bodies of many species, and the blood was visible like puddles of rain. _

_ Looking up to the ruins, she took in the sight; shattered windows, castle turrets destroyed, and giant stone boulders lying haphazardly around the base of the building. She walked through the rubble and up the cracked steps into the grand entrance hall of the castle. _

_ Her steps led her to the great hall where people gathered, and straight to a body of a man lying still on the floor. She knew the people that surrounded him, but they didn’t have faces; her eyes solely focussed on the way his body didn’t move, stiff and broken. _

Hermione gasped, her vision fading as a surge of not just memories, but overwhelming sadness threatened to engulf her. Her fingers curled into fists and her breathing grew ragged. Before she could process her vision and regain her bearings more images began to flash through her mind, each one heavy with anguish and pain. 

_ Dressed in a pale blue dress, she walked into her first day of school, only for two girls to make fun of her so severely that no one else would talk to her in fear of being taunted too. _

_ She was hunched over a book, ignoring the giggles and snorts surrounding her until she was hit with a wad of paper in the side of the face, and it fell in the crease of her book. Looking up, a group of her peers laughed, and she reached up to feel dozens of pieces of paper chunks throughout her curly head of hair. _

_ Arriving at Hogwarts only for the girls in her dormitory to ignore her as if she didn’t exist. _

_ Ron calling her a nightmare and reminding her why she didn’t have friends. _

_ The fear of sitting in a classroom where even the teacher hated her. _

_ Being ignored by her best friends. _

_ The name-calling and taunts thrown her direction by every student who wore a green tie. _

_ Pointing her wand at her oblivious parents as she wiped herself from their memories. _

_ Seeing the gruesome pictures of her murdered parents, the images making her gag. _

_ Standing on the edge of a cliff, her arms wide, and gently falling forwards towards the crashing waves below. _

“Hermione, wake up,” a voice edged its way into her mind. It was muffled, but she could still make out the faded noise. “Come, we have to get you back home. Can you mind your fin, please?” 

As she began to be led from the ruins, her mind cleared. She could feel the coolness of the water over her flesh, and her tail fin moved of its own, an involuntary action she no longer thought about. The pain in her heart ran deep though. She felt sick and as she opened her eyes to peer at Lass, she almost felt like a part of her broke. 

Thalassa stopped and wrapped her hands around the top of Hermione’s arms. “What happened back there? You just sort of . . . went away.” 

Hermione felt her voice get caught in her throat, but she pushed the words out with a ragged choke. “I remember . . . I remember everything now.” 

They swam in silence until reaching the entrance of their home. Thalassa helped settle her in, and Hermione began to relay the entire story of her life - of the memories she could pull up. 

“So that must be how you got through our barriers,” Thalassa said plainly, as she scooped a handful of freshly ground plant and began to rub it over Hermione’s shoulders. 

The aroma from the leaves smelled so good, and Hermione closed her eyes, letting the scent soothe her nerves. “What do you mean?” 

“It was your magic that brought you to the cliff. You willingly chose to die, but it sounds like you did so peacefully. From everything you’ve explained to me, you were plagued with many bad experiences, but choosing death seemed like your choice at happiness.” 

Hermione pondered over what the siren was explaining to her. If she had learned anything in her many months under the sea, it was that these creatures were far more intuitive than what humans were. There was a calm, yet fierce nature about them, and she felt at peace with them. 

Thalassa had explained how she was different than the other mermaids, but she never felt threatened or upset by it. Sirens didn’t go with maids, but it was all she had ever known. 

She continued her days as she had before, gathering plants and other underwater essentials that Thalassa used in her salves and potions. Hermione was very interested in what Lass did, and so the elder Siren began to teach her everything she knew. Lass was like a healer, and she gathered supplies to help care for not just the maids of their clan, but other underwater creatures as well. She also dabbled in siren and mermaid magic, gathering the enchanted tablets that taught them both of underwater lore. 

Hermione knew that people respected the siren. She also noticed how they steered clear of her and Hermione as well. Whispers behind seaweed walls told Hermione that some didn’t understand the magic that Thalassa and Hermione played with, and she was all too familiar with the echo of fear and distrust.

It was a great day to head to the surface for earthbound elements, and Hermione found herself following the mass of glittering golden scales that was Lass’ tail fin to the surface. She enjoyed going to the edge of the water and meeting the air. Enough time had passed that while the raw edge of pain from her human life licked her soul, she lived a different life now. Inhaling the fresh air as her face broke the surface was refreshing and soothing. Much like she assumed diving into the water had been to her when she was a witch. 

“I’ll take that copse of rocks over there,” Lass instructed as she pointed to their left. “How about you take those to the right and we’ll move towards each other.” 

“Sounds good to me. Do you need something in particular today?” 

The siren turned her face towards Hermione, a small smile playing across her lips and a glint in her blue eyes. She raised an eyebrow and said, “I believe we have enough limpets and blue fescue to last a while, but if you happen upon a Pearlfish, I would be so grateful.” 

Hermione ran through the list in her brain of ever-growing knowledge of sea life. She had to admit, there was so much more she didn’t know. Pearlfish was not coming to the forefront of her mind so she asked, “What’s a Pearlfish?” 

Thalassa’s smile widened and she huffed a small laugh. “A pearlfish is a scaleless fish that is pencil-thin. You won’t find it in the rocks or crevices, but if you happen upon a starfish or sea cucumber, check their anus for the little creature.” 

With that, the siren turned her back and began to swim towards the rocks she previously indicated. Hermione stayed in place a bit shocked, but only for a moment before she gave a breathy laugh and dove back under the water to the nearest reef that led her to the copse of rocks at the other end. 

She loved swimming through the reefs. The amount of life and beauty below the water’s surface constantly left her in awe. Rich colours of reds and oranges, greens and purples; the shades shifting as more colourful fish swam over them, their shadows dancing with the light from above the water. She watched as two clownfish danced between the anemones and a ruby red feather star walked over the coral. She may not have asked for this life, but she was grateful for the beauty of it. 

As she approached the base of the cliffs, she began gathering a few of the plants that grew in the rocky crags. She knew that Lass liked these as they only grew during a certain season and only on land. The sea spray splashed at her back, and she was absorbed in her hunting. 

“This can’t be real.” 

A voice broke through her concentration and she whipped towards it. Surprise and fear making her falter and drop the greenery she held; she saw him a bit higher up on the rocks looking down on her. Her first thought was being seen by a human. They were not to be noticed, but she quickly squashed that thought, as the wards should keep any humans at bay. And then her brain finally caught up with her eyes, and she fiercely wondered how in the world she was staring at a boy that she recognized only from her memories that were lodged deeply away in her mind. 

His lips parted slightly as his eyes widened and darted from her face down her body and into the water. She felt self-conscious at his perusal over her body, but then a surge of anger and betrayal came over her. From her memories, she remembered this boy in a green tie because his taunts were ones she received most often. His pointed face and white-blond fringe were obvious, but his grey eyes as they bored into her face were what made her fury come to the surface.

Her voice shook, but her words were clear. “Why are you here? Go away!”

He blinked in surprise at her, but she watched as his face quickly stiffened, and a slight tick in his brow was the only tell that he was a bit perturbed by the situation. 

“Is it really you then? Granger?”

“It doesn’t matter. Go away before the magic makes you.” She sneered the last words, hoping that he would heed the advice. She wasn’t sure what the wards would do to an intruder, but she just wanted him to leave. 

His eyes widened slowly as he looked around him, searching out the wards' traps, but then his jaw clenched and his eyes sought hers again. “I can’t leave. I’ve been sent to find you by Potter.”

She knew that name, the one that was assigned to the man with dark, messy hair and glasses. She admitted to herself a while ago, that this boy was one that didn’t make her heart hurt as much. Still, she stiffened when he spoke the name, and while the urge was strong to dive below the waters and swim back to her safe cave, she straightened her spine and tilted her chin towards the man. 

“Tell him I am gone. He doesn’t need me anymore and, technically, I am no longer who he is seeking anyway.”

“I can’t do that. I, uh, well . . . I don’t have unlimited time here, but I am not scheduled to leave, with or without you, for five more days. See . . . I was given a fortnight to find you, and I’ve spent the last nine of them tracking you down,” he rushed out in a hurriedly nervous way. “Your magic lingers heavily here,” he ended softly.

She watched as a shiver ran over his form, and she wondered what had caused it. The pressure of his gaze was too heavy, and the urge to flee was becoming overwhelming. There was nothing she needed to give to him. He shouldn’t expect anything more than her cold shoulder and silence. 

“Enjoy your extended holiday in Australia, Malfoy.”

With that, she sunk into the water; the density of the sea dulled his final shouted plea for her to wait. She swam swiftly to the other side of the bay, finding Thalassa quickly. “Lass, I’m not feeling so well. Will you take me back and make that special draught that helps me sleep?” 

The siren turned to her, surprise and concern in her eyes. “What has happened? Your face looks as though you stumbled upon the war ruins again. Did you have more memories come back?” 

Hermione shook her head, and frowned, hoping to convey that she wasn’t feeling well. “No, nothing like that. I just didn’t sleep well last night . . . the human air is too much today.” She hoped the lie was enough, but Hermione didn’t want to tell her the truth. She didn’t know why at the moment, but she knew that it was something she didn’t want to have to explain. Even though she knew that Thalassa would respect her, she just needed to process what had happened and why. 

Why was anyone even looking for her, let alone Draco Malfoy? Why had Harry sent him, to_ bring her back _ is how Malfoy had put it. She couldn’t go back home, she was a mermaid now. Harry didn’t know that, though. And by the look on Malfoy’s face, it was a shock to him as well. What she couldn’t wrap her mind around was that in the very short encounter with the man, he had not once uttered a nasty thing to her. His tone was soft and his expressions ranged from grateful at first to hesitant urgency by the end. 

“Of course. Come on, let’s get you back. We can always do this tomorrow.”

That evening, Hermione was grateful that dreams didn’t plague her. She had gone to sleep earlier than usual, avoiding the concerned face of Lass. Her mind wouldn’t stop pulling images from her past and throwing them in her face, so the blessed slumber was an easy escape. When she awoke early in the morning, her mind was refreshed. 


	4. Gillyweed

She attempted to ignore the encounter with Malfoy the day before, but her ever-working brain had so many questions. He mentioned that Harry had sent him. Why hadn’t Harry come himself? Which was followed by why Harry would even send Malfoy of all people? And how did Malfoy find her? What did he mean when he said her magic lingers? How was that even possible? 

Huffing, she threw the grasses she was braiding down on the stone table, and as quietly and quickly as she could move, she swam from the cave. It was now or never, and she swam as fast as she could toward the bay. Reaching the surface, she noted it was still dark. The sun had not risen yet, but as her head broke the water’s edge, she could easily tell dawn wasn’t far off. 

Swimming to the rocks where Malfoy had stood yesterday, she began to peek around. Surely, he still wasn't here in the middle of the night, but her heart pounded in her chest nonetheless. She wasn’t sure if she wanted him to be, or if she hoped he wasn’t. 

Coming up empty-handed, she rested her back against one of the larger rocks and set her eyes to the horizon. If anything, she could always explain her disappearance to Lass by saying that she wanted to watch the sunrise. No more than a few minutes had passed, when she heard the obvious sound of rocks shifting as someone made their way across them. She stiffened and moved to partially hide behind her safe place, but she made sure to keep an eye on the trail that led from the top of the cliff down to the bottom where she was. 

As his steps came closer to her spot, the sinking moon gave away his identity as its light reflected off his hair. She watched as his eyes narrowed, and his head swivelled in all directions. They shifted over her location and she darted around the rock, hoping the slight splash of water against stone wasn’t revealing of her place. Now that she was here, and he was too, she knew this was a bad idea. She wanted her questions answered, but something seemed off about this. 

“I knew you’d come back.” 

His voice seemed loud in the stillness of dawn, but the smug way he uttered the words had her rolling her eyes. Letting her frustration win out over her cautiousness, she moved to reveal herself. “And how would you know that?” 

The dim light of the early morning made his silhouette dark against the rocks, but still, his hair shined, making his approach obvious. He was silent, approaching her slowly, making cautious steps down towards the water. Crouching down on the large rock she was next to, he peeked over the edge to look at her. She moved back a bit, the close proximity making her uneasy. 

“I assumed you’d come back because you’d need to know.” She felt her teeth clamp together as he pegged her desire to seek out the truth. His lips turned up in satisfaction at her silent response. “But I  _ knew _ you’d be back because you’re smart and reckless in that spontaneous and courageous way.”

His words were not what she had expected, and the determined way in which he uttered the last few had her searching his face for any signs of betrayal or untruths. For some reason, she found none. He seemed different today. He wasn’t hesitant or caught off guard. His cocky tone was one she remembered, but his playful smirk didn’t pair with the pompous grin from her memories. 

She felt her shoulders soften just a fraction as he shrugged his own and gave her a half smile, before turning his face out to the sea. Her pulse raced, but the anger that she felt yesterday, the trepidation that had her fleeing before she could wrap her mind around the situation, was suddenly absent now. 

Curiosity won over and she asked him, “Will you tell me?” He turned his face to hers, an unreadable expression masking his features. “The truth, that is,” she followed up when he didn’t answer. 

The light was growing, and she noted the darkness that smudged his lids and the tight line of his jaw. As his silence continued, she took in the rest of him. A dark oxford was paired with denims and boots that glistened like dragon hide. He fiddled with a thick bracelet on his right wrist as he finally spoke. “I’ll tell you everything, but I’ve never watched the sun rise in Australia before. Watch with me, Granger.” 

It wasn’t a question or a demand, just a simple statement to absolve his silence. Turning, she faced the horizon. He moved a bit farther down, sitting down on the rock, careful to stay far enough away from the water lapping at its edge. He was closer to her now too, and she chanced a glance in his direction, but his focus was on the growing colours over the ocean. It was a gorgeous sunrise; the glowing orb peaked slowly up the line where the water meets the sky - the soft purple grew into pink and spread out into oranges and yellows. The water glistened and danced under the colourful display, and she found herself caught up in the moment - almost forgetting the man next to her. 

It was with a bit of a shock when the sun was fully in the sky and she turned to him, that he was in the same spot, his eyes resting intently on her rather than on the dawn’s light. She felt the heat rise up her chest and looked away, a foreign feeling coiling in her stomach. There was something about him finding her that made her ashamed of her past indiscretion. His eyes shifted from molten grey to silver as the light grew, and he held her gaze as if reading her thoughts. 

“What happened to you, Granger?”

She had left it all behind - the pain and anguish she felt after the war. She still couldn’t describe it, but it was gone now. She hadn’t asked to become a mermaid, and for quite some time she was grateful that she was one. Now, though, her secret was known, and she abruptly wished it hadn't worked like this. 

However, she wasn’t all that upset that it was Draco Malfoy that had found her secret. Being bullied by him and looked down on for being something out of her control in her human life, she was prepared for his onslaught of hate and disgust at her being a whole new creature. She briefly registered that his tone was clear in his question, no lick of malice tinting the edges, but still, she felt defensive. 

“What’s it matter to you?” 

He held his palms up in surrender, a brow arching on his forehead. “I just thought you might want to talk about it.” 

“Well I don’t, and least of all with you. You told me you’d tell me the truth. Will you, or was that a lie?” 

Sighing, he pulled his wand and cast a spell across the face of the rock he was sitting on. She rolled her eyes, knowing the wand movement was not only a cushioning charm, but also one to keep the water at bay. Bloody pompous brat. 

“I’ll tell you what I know. I don’t have anything to lose at the present.” He shrugged and began rolling his bracelet around his wrist. “Harry came here three years ago looking for you.”

“Wait, three years. I haven’t been gone that long.”

His nodding head gave her pause. “Yes, you have been away a long time. Harry knew you’d left to find your parents, but when you didn’t come back, he came searching for you.” She opened her mouth to interrupt, but he held a hand up. “Let me finish. I don’t know all the details; I am just relaying what Potter told me. Anyway, he couldn’t find you. To make a long story short, I am the last effort before they call off the search for the brightest witch of our day, and she is declared dead.”

The words stung. She knew it was wrong of her to be upset about them giving up. For so long, she felt like no one would even notice her disappearance, and then she spent a long time with only the bad images plaguing her memories. Now that she had them all back, the feelings were tainted with bitterness, and she woefully felt like maybe she was wrong in all of her assumptions. The problem was, she was dead in all the ways the magical world knew her to be. She had no desire for him to take her back to the Wizarding world where Hermione Granger was alive, but no longer a witch. 

“You’re going to tell them.” The words came out in a whisper, not a question, but a statement. 

His silence was long, but his mesmerizing eyes never left her face. She refused to break eye contact first, but her resolve was warring with itself in her body. Her mouth went dry and opened and closed slightly, trying to push words to break the silence. 

Finally, he looked away and said in a huff, “It doesn’t matter if I do.” 

“What do you mean?”

“My mission was to find you and bring you back. This,” he gestured to the water and her purple tail working slowly to keep her in place, “is not what I expected to find.” His tone held a bit of a bite, but he held his tongue against voicing anymore, his jaw cracking together firmly.

For a moment, she had completely forgotten who she was talking with. He hadn’t once said anything awful to her, and even his mannerisms were different than she remembered, but that tiny slip had her backing away from him; fear and defiance a swiftly built shield. 

“What are you going to do to me?” the words left her mouth, as she continued to back away, sinking slowly in the water.

As he noticed her movements, his eyes widened a fraction, but then narrowed, his own defensiveness coming to play. “Absolutely nothing. Why would I do anything to you? I was meant to bring you back - to save you.”

“It’d be so easy for you, right? Save the damsel and win the glory. Trap me with your human magic, smuggle me back home, and leave me to die in waters too cold for me - what makes me think that isn’t exactly what you’ve thought about doing?” 

She watched in horrified entertainment as his eyes lowered, his own shame evident by the tinge of pink rising from the collar of his shirt. He hung his head for a moment before answering. 

“Because that’s not what will help you or me, or anyone else for that matter. Look, I won’t hurt you or trap you, but will you at least give me something to take back to Potter. I’ll leave you alone if that’s what you want, but give me something that I can show him in a Pensieve so he knows you’re alive and well. Otherwise, he’ll come here himself, and you know I’m right.” 

Hermione did know he was right. Harry would come to find her, and what would he do when he saw what she had become? There was a deep part of her that knew he’d have a hard time accepting it. She knew he’d think it was his fault, and while she held a certain amount of discord with him, she had no desire to let Harry hold the burden of her death and rebirth as a mermaid on his shoulders as well. Malfoy was right. She’d give him memories to take back so that Harry knew she was alive and well, and maybe even happy too. 

Eyes darkening with determination, she locked her gaze with his. “Wait here,” she demanded. Diving below the water, she went towards the deeper parts of the reef. The dolphins liked to play out here, and she noted with amusement that they were indeed dipping in and out of the water. Finding what she was looking for, she grabbed a small handful, rolled it into a ball, and brought it back to where Malfoy had dutifully waited for her return. She held out the small and dripping ball of green seaweed. 

“What do you expect me to do with it?” 

“You don’t recognize it? Hmpf, Draco Malfoy, I assumed you to be smarter than that.” 

His eyes flashed and his lips pursed. “I didn’t say I didn’t know what it was. I asked what you expected me to do with it. Why are you holding up Gillyweed like some over-excited school girl?” 

“Take it, silly. If you want to share memories with Harry that show I’m doing just fine, then I’m going to really show you. I’d probably take off your boots at least before you swallow it; they’ll weigh you down too much.”

She watched as he let her words sink in. Not for the first time, she enjoyed watching him flail a bit in shock. Feeling the smirk that pulled up her lips, she held the Gillyweed up higher, taunting him with it.

“Fine,” he said, untying his boots and pulling at them a bit harder than necessary, socks following. He quickly undid the buttons of his oxford and pulled it from his arms. Hermione was caught up in the way his lean muscles ran down his long torso, and she observed the scar that ran from one side of his ribs down and across his body. “Granger, you’re staring.”

“What? I am not,” she spluttered, warmth covering her cheeks. It was then she noticed that he had also removed his denims and had transfigured his pants into swimming trunks. “Right, well you’re all set.” She tossed the wad of plant to him, and he caught it easily. “Come on, have you ever seen the Great Barrier Reef?” 

“Obviously, I have not,” he bit out, irritation in his voice. “I didn’t think Gillyweed grew here, and this looks a bit different in colour. Are you trying to kill me?” 

Her smile grew wider. She rather enjoyed a flustered Malfoy. “It’s a different strain, but it’s actually better here. You’ll be able to breathe underwater for two hours - well, so I’ve been told by Thalassa.” 

Pausing, he left his inspection of the water plant in his palm and looked down to her. “Who is that?” 

“No one you need to know about. Let’s go, we’re wasting time.” 

With a splash of her tail, she dove under the water hoping that he would follow her. She was right, and was rewarded only a moment later with a wriggling mass of arms and legs as Malfoy hit the water with an ugly splash. She waited patiently as the Gillyweed took effect. It was rather fascinating watching the process as she had never witnessed it before. Gills sprouted deeply into the pale skin of Malfoy’s long neck, webs grew between his fingers, his feet became elongated like small tail fins, and when the transformation was complete, he looked up to her with unblinking eyes and a gorgeous smile that somehow made her stomach flip in an unexpected way. 

She felt her own smile spread across her face, excitement flooding through her body to show someone that could appreciate the beauty of the ocean in a way that the other mermaids took for granted. She swam fast, her tail fin working hard, but Malfoy moved right along with her, his eyes darting around him as he took in the whole new world. She couldn’t help but take notice of the wonder in his eyes, and she felt a spark inside her that she hadn’t known was there. 

They didn’t go too far before she slowed her movements. Swimming a bit deeper, she brought him towards one of her favourite parts of this reef. It was filled with so many colours of different species that she frequently would come here just to remind herself of how big the world really was. He seemed to appreciate the sight as well, his long fingers reaching out to touch some of the swaying grasses. A small fish darted out from them, and he jumped slightly at the surprise. She laughed, and he turned to her, his face bleeding offense. 

Reaching out her own palm, she set it lazily on one of the corals, after only a moment a long spindle like creature came from below and walked onto her fingers, its hair-like antennas seeking out her touch. Moving her hand towards Malfoy, she gestured for him to take the prawn. His eyes met hers, a fraction of worry tinting the unblinking irises, and she smiled reassuringly. He placed his palm open, the edges of their hands touching, and the tiny fish walked over to his hand, tickling her skin as it went. 

It was truly a wondrous sight to see Draco Malfoy as he allowed himself to let go and immerse himself in the breathtaking beauty that lives under the sea. She wondered if he had ever done anything like this in his life; just live in the moment. After he set the creature back on the coral, he looked up and motioned for her to continue. 

They spent the next ninety minutes exploring the reef and the deeper pools where the dolphins played. Draco didn’t seem quite as impressed with the larger mammals, but he played along still. As they began their trek back to the copse of rocks in the maids’ bay, she began to feel a sad longing. It was quite nice to share her place with Malfoy, a human, but now it was over. The moment was bittersweet. 

“Thanks for showing me the reef. I have to say, I have never done anything like that before.” Malfoy was climbing back on the rocks, searching for his clothes that he had left there earlier. 

“I’m glad you had fun. Now, you can show Harry, and you have completed your mission to the best of your ability.” 

He stiffened for a moment, but it wasn’t something she thought anything about as only a second later, he reached out and grabbed his boots and pile of clothing. “Well, I’m still here for another four days.” Pausing, he swallowed before cooly saying, “I’ve never watched the sun set in this part of the world. Think you may want to share another first with me?” 

Hermione was shocked, but only for a moment. Actually, she rather enjoyed spending her time in his company, and the sunsets were rather beautiful to watch. “Go on, you must be starved. I need to let Lass know I’m okay and do my duties. How about we meet back here in about six hours?”

“That sounds perfect, Hermione.”

She sunk below the surface slowly. The swirl in her belly had nothing to do with her missing breakfast. Her name on his lips was messing with her mind in a way she wasn’t prepared for, and now she felt betrayal and shame resound even louder in her head as she swam back home.


	5. Restoring Happy Memories

Draco walked back to his hotel room. It was a small room above the wizarding town’s cheapest pub, but he didn’t care. It was a long, and a far cry better than the prison cell he had been occupying for the better part of two years. He had spent the first year after the war on house arrest, no longer allowed to use a wand, and a charmed bracelet fitted snugly to his wrist like a forever shackle. 

The slamming of the cell door still haunted his dreams as he was sentenced to prison, the length of time still to be decided. He knew this would be the end, his family had chosen the wrong side and this would be their fate. And so for two years, he sat in a dimly lit cell in Azkaban with little to eat and even less to keep warm. He was at least thankful the Dementor guards had been removed from the site, permitting him at least his sanity. 

His father didn’t last long after the war, his pride too wounded to find the strength to survive any longer. His mother was graciously allowed house arrest with the testimony from Harry Potter. It was not long after his first year in prison that the golden boy had come to visit him. His hooded eyes held a tone of pain, something Draco realized mirrored his own. The man sat in front of him, a steel table separating them. His stubble was prominent, and he ran his hand through his hair as he gathered his words. 

“Malfoy,” he greeted at last. 

“Potter,” he responded, his sneer the same as always. 

Potter sighed, and Draco realized that he had come because he needed something from him. Sitting up straight, he watched and waited - this could be his chance.

“I testified for your mother.” 

“Yes, I know that. Last year.”

“Well, she saved my life in the forest. I also know you lowered your wand the night Dumbledore died.” 

He said it so calmly as if it meant nothing to him. Where Draco, himself, flinched at the knowledge that Potter knew this information. 

“I don’t need a flashback to that night, Potter. Spit out why you’re here. You must need something, and honestly, my days in a prison cell have rather ruined my social skills.” 

Potter pulled out a copy of the _ Daily Prophet _ and pushed it towards him. Looking down at the headline, he read _ Golden Girl, Hermione Granger - Missing or Dead? No Trace For Two Years Now. _

He looked up in surprise. It was shocking to think that Potter was sitting across from him while Granger was missing. The pain in his eyes made sense now. 

“What does this have to do with me?” 

“Your mother informed me that you have excellent tracking skills. That your uncanny ability to recognize magic and its traces could be used to help us find Hermione.” 

Sitting up straighter, he silently applauded his mother for her excellent skills of observation and the ability to fix problems that also suited her needs. Harry continued at Draco’s silence, “I am willing to request permission for your temporary removal from prison to hunt her down and bring her back home.” 

“And in return?” 

“In return, I will insist on a rehearing of your trial, and I will testify on your behalf. If you don’t find her, then you will be whisked back here, and would have enjoyed a fortnight of freedom.” 

Draco thought about the situation at hand. Glancing back to the _ Prophet _again, he was met with the shining eyes of Hermione Granger, her riotous curls taking up most of the picture. It wouldn’t be too hard, depending on the amount of information Harry already had. He didn’t have anything left to lose, and he knew his mother would Avada him herself if he refused what she had so easily offered to him as a way out. 

“Do what you need to do to get me out of here, Potter. I’ll also need all the information you have of her last whereabouts.” 

* * *

The next eleven months were spent advocating for Draco’s removal from prison. It was a much deeper and intricate process than he thought possible, and Harry was not quiet with his frustration. The finer details, like how they were to keep track of him, and whether he should be allowed a wand or not, were not up for his opinion.

Harry insisted on being the person to relay every detail he knew of Hermione’s whereabouts, and more importantly who she was as a person. Needless to say, Potter became a weekly visitor to the prison. Harry deemed it necessary that Draco knew exactly how she would think and react to make her tracking easier. 

What Draco wasn’t prepared for was just how hard it was to find her. Harry had spent thousands of galleons and hundreds of hours in search for her. While he may know the witch inside and out, he simply couldn’t track her magic. 

It was so much of a shock to be led to the cliff, but then to look down and see something in the water that magically screamed for him to come investigate. He was thrown off guard to see the same witch he was seeking, but she wasn’t the same at all. 

If he had to be honest with himself, she had become somewhat of a beacon of light to him. He had spent so much time reading notes about her favourite foods, subjects in school, what colour she liked to wear even though it was different than her actual favourite colour. He read old reports she had written back in Hogwarts just so he could understand the way her mind worked. He flipped through an old photo book with still pictures from before Hogwarts that Potter explained to him she had left behind when she went to Australia. 

She was his way out of this hell, and if he could find her, he owed her so much. It wasn’t that she was his gateway to freedom, but more so that spending so many months learning about her, he realized much more about himself and how he could be different and better if he chose to be. 

It was long ago when he had resolved to the fact that his childhood was not what it was supposed to be. As a child, he idealized his father. It was a rather rude and painful awakening that he found out how wrong he was. It was her words written in her diary that reverberated through his brain as he listened to the hate that was spewed from the mouths of so many in adjoining cells. It made him disgusted with himself that he had ever said the same words, let alone truly felt them. Shame was an everyday feeling for him. 

When he approached her, her attention elsewhere, he took in the sight of her. The way the sun bounced off her tanned skin, and her copper irises actually glittered from the light’s reflection on the water. Her once wild curls were wet and dripping, and they hung down her back like a silken curtain. He almost laughed out loud when he noticed the scales of her tail fin were many shades of purple; her favourite colour even though she preferred to wear earth tones. 

Buggering up his first attempt to talk with her, he was so nervous he’d felt sure he had lost his only chance. The relief he felt when she was there waiting for him the next day was like reaching a life preserver as he struggled to stay afloat. 

He was now waiting for her return to the rocks that evening. Luckily, Potter had secured him a wand with a limited number of spells. He chose them carefully, but he couldn’t help but try to create a space that maybe he could be next to her like he was when they were underwater together. She had no clue just how much he needed that from her. He had no idea it was that important to him either, but the internal urge was much stronger than he had the desire to control. He cast three spells to lengthen and smooth the jagged rocks into a makeshift ramp large enough for both of them to sit on. Then, he waited for her on the edge of it, water purling at his bare toes. 

The sun was sinking lower and lower in the sky, and she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. His eyes kept flickering from side to side and then back out to the surges of waves in the bay. Colours began to paint the sky, but he paid it no attention, wondering where she was. He sat there alone, the chill in the air growing heavier, and the darkness becoming thicker. As the stars began to pop out in the night sky, he sighed and rose from his seat, his limbs aching from sitting so long. She hadn’t come, and he wasn’t proud enough anymore to admit that it didn’t sting. 

Tossing and turning as he attempted to sleep, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe something had happened to her. Surely, she wouldn’t have stood him up without any explanation. It went against everything he knew of her - or what he thought he knew of her, even if she didn’t realize it herself. She was a proud woman, who had no issues with telling anyone what she thought. She was smart and daring, but also humble and full of love - something he didn’t quite understand himself. He vowed to show up in the same place tomorrow, if anything to just be a constant source for her until he no longer could be. If she wanted to see him, he would be there. If she didn’t, she could stay away. He had four more days before he had to leave her here and face the rest of his life behind bars. 

When he awoke the next morning and headed out and down the cliff to the water's edge, he was relieved to see a form with glittering purple scales sitting on the ramp he had created. Her tail was partially out of the water, and she must have been sitting there for some time because he noticed her curls were beginning to dry, a frazzled mess that made him smile at the memory of their younger days. 

She was silent until he sunk down next to her, careful to keep away from the lapping of the water spray. 

“I didn’t intend to become a mermaid.” He was quiet, letting her find her words. “I just wanted the pain to stop, and I really didn’t think anyone would miss me. I was a coward.” She took a deep breath in, and he looked over to her, expecting to see tears, but her eyes were locked on the horizon, the sun already halfway to the top of the sky. 

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” 

Her eyes dropped to her lap where her hands nervously wrung themselves together. He itched to reach out and claim them in his own. Instead, he fidgeted with the shackle on his wrist. “I fell from that cliff there.” She pointed to her right and up to the highest point. “The maids found me, already dead, but Thalassa transformed me and brought me back.”

His body reacted to the last of her words and he reached out, letting his mind take a step back from the situation. He placed his hand over hers, wrapping his fingers tightly across the back of her palm. She twitched at his touch, but then stilled as she looked up to his face. He could tell there were conflicting emotions inside her mind, but it wasn’t for him to meddle with. Forcing his fingers between hers, he intertwined them with his own. She didn’t pull back, and he was grateful. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come back last night.” 

Her voice was heavy and somber. Shrugging with feigned indifference he thought maybe she would find a touch of solace in knowing a bit of his own story. 

“After the war, I was confined for a year in my house, unable to use magic. I spent most of that time wondering what was the point of life at all. I tried to drink myself to death on many occasions.” 

She looked at him, her wide eyes so pure. Her fingers tightened around his own this time. “And did you find out the point, Draco?” 

His given name rolled off her tongue so easy it almost hurt to hear it uttered with such gentleness. “Not right away, no, but slowly I began to realize it’s more about how you give yourself to others than it is what they give to you.”

The breeze picked up, and her hair blocked her face. She reached up to move it back behind her ear, and he couldn’t help but track the movement, wishing he was the one to do it instead. 

“How did you learn that lesson?” she urged, an edge of teasing and doubt heavy in her tone. 

“Honestly?” he questioned, smiling at the ease with which their conversation was flowing. At her nod of assent he continued, “A little prick asked me for help in finding his best friend, and I agreed. But then along the way, I realized I cared more about the journey than the ending of it.” 

He knew he was speaking in codes, but she didn’t question him further. He had accepted his fate the first night he had found her. It didn’t matter that she couldn’t come home. The urge to help her, while he was here, became his new goal. It was the least he could give her. 

Her eyes bored into his own, the hints of gold mixing with the hues of chocolate and amber made his skin tingle. “You’re different now. You’re not what I remembered, and I’m beginning to think my memories are betraying me.” 

He laughed. “Trust me, Hermione, you have a mind like no other. Tell me, do you remember the time you punched me in the face?” 

Smiling shyly, she nodded. “You were such an arse.”

Laughing again, he tilted his head down. “That I was. Still, that was a happy memory, right?” 

“No, I was furious with you.” Her tone was harsh and her eyes were hard. “I didn’t find joy in hitting you. If I’m honest, I was a bit ashamed I had come to such a weakness.” 

This is who he had began to know while he studied her from his cell. She lived behind a wall of insecurities that she built with layers of pride which she didn’t fully believe she was capable of. Sighing, he decided to take a different approach. “What did you think when you found out you were a witch?” 

She smiled at the memory, so he hoped he was moving in the right direction. “I was so excited. It was like something fell into place that was always empty before, and the first time I stepped through the wall behind the Leaky and out into Diagon Alley I thought I was going to explode from the thrill of it all.” 

And so it went on, Draco asked her questions about her childhood and attempted to help her find the happiness in the memories rather than being plagued by the harder ones. By the time the sun was high in the sky and beginning its arc of descent, he was sweating and hungry. But the smile on her face as she told him the story of conjuring her first Patronus had him ignoring the loud grumbling sounds of his stomach. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ve been talking your ear off.” She ducked her head and pulled her lip between her teeth in her embarrassment. “I should be going anyway. Thalassa knows something is up.” 

“You haven’t told her about me,” he asked, not sure if it was concern he felt or bitterness.

Moving her head side to side, she said, “I’m not really sure why, but I kind of like you being a secret. They’ll ask questions I don’t know how to answer.” 

“So does that mean you’ll meet me again tomorrow?” Looking down at their still-clasped hands, he was pretty sure she would. The conversation had gone much better today, and he hoped she realized he didn’t mean her any harm. Inside he was mourning, but he could push that away until it was time for him to leave. He didn’t want to burden her with the knowledge that his mission wasn’t accomplished, he had failed. 

“Yes, I’d like that.”

* * *

Day three went by too fast. They swam in the waters close to the bay, and she explained all about the plants and creatures under the water. He had no idea how many magical species were mixed in with all the others. It was interesting to see the way this underwater world worked so cohesively. It was a turning moment for them both, when he ventured too close to a giant clam. He was startled as the flash of amethyst crossed his vision pulling him hard away from the snapping of the shell. His heart pounded in his chest, and she was panting, attempting to control her breathing. 

“Draco Malfoy, there is no need for you to go getting in dangerous situations down here. Now, mind where you are swimming.”

Her eyes flashed, but a light inside his soul was quickly ignited. He reached for her hand that she fiercely pulled away and swatted him hard on his naked chest. He laughed then, the adrenaline of the moment lessening. It took a moment more of her glaring before she was laughing too, a hand pressed tightly over her heart. 

Later that evening as they lounged on the ramp, his legs dangling in the water and pressed against her tail, she promised him she wouldn’t tell anyone that he almost got eaten alive by a measly clam. 

As day two closed, he found himself again side by side with her on the makeshift ramp. The sun was fading fast, casting orange shadows over them, and he grew ever curious about her tail fin. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“You have asked me hundreds of questions today, and I always answered them.”

His smile came easily, and he was proud to know that they did indeed develop a fast friendship. “Well this one is different.” She stiffened next to him, and he went on quickly. “Don’t worry, I don’t think it will upset you. I just wondered about your fin is all.” 

Releasing a breath she turned to him. “What about it?” He thought he knew that she was holding onto an impassive facade, but self doubt was lingering around the edges. 

“What’s it feel like to have a tail?”

“It’s not so bad really. It took some getting used to it, but now it’s like me asking you what it feels like to have arms.”

He nodded, understanding that was probably a stupid question. “Its colours. Do they mean something?” He already assumed the answer to this question, but still he preferred to prove his theory correct.

Her smile was warming, and he knew he had softened the edge of her uncertainty. She reached out and pulled his hand in her own. “The merpeople explain that each mer’s tail defines their spirit, their aura so to speak.” 

“So, violet is supposed to define you? I guess I can see parts of that. If I am remembering correctly, doesn’t it mean true greatness and deep wisdom?” She nodded a bit slowly, her eyes on him and her lip tight between her teeth. He moved his eyes from her face and studied her tail. It wasn’t just violet and purple scales that adorned her fin, but shimmers of other shades as well. The scales were multi-faceted, glittering the way diamonds do when touched by light. He was mesmerized and his fingers twitched to reach out and run his hand over it. “Can I touch it?” 

The moment the words left his mouth, he realized he shouldn’t have asked. To his surprise her fingers tightened against his own and she guided it to her tail. He gasped as his palm slid over the shining pieces. It wasn’t at all what he expected. Her tail was soft and warm, yet firm and smooth under his skin. He pulled back, his eyes wide with wonder, to seek her face. Her eyes were closed, relishing in the touch of his hand still pressed against her tail. 

Lifting his other hand, he reached for her face and cradled her cheek against his palm. At first, she flinched to his touch, but when her eyes flew open and met his, she relaxed and pressed into his touch. One glance from her eyes at his lips, and he was leaning in to press his mouth gently against hers. Her lips were tender and molded perfectly against his own. It was everything he needed to soothe the ache building soul over his departure the next day, and she melted against him like he was the warmth to her chilled heart. 

All too quickly she pulled back. Her eyes were downcast, and for a moment, he didn’t understand what had changed. Then dawning came over his mind, and he remembered the moment he was trapped in. He was kissing a girl who he had tormented for his entire childhood, who had killed herself wrought with pain he had only added to, and now she was a mermaid brought back against her will. And to top it off, he was leaving her forever the very next day.

“Oh, Hermione, I’m so sorry.”

She shook her head, stopping what was about to become a long apology and explanation. “No, please don’t be. That was everything I needed. Please, don’t take it back. It’s hard enough to know you’ll be leaving, and I’m forever stuck like this. To know you regret kissing me, it would. . . just make it worse.” 

His concern turned to confusion. “Is that want you think?! That I would regret kissing you?” 

“Well, why wouldn’t you?! I’m no longer beneath your blood status. Now, I’m just a creature who is not even on par with a human’s magic.” 

“Hermione, no. That is nowhere near what I think or feel about you.” 

“I should go.” She began to push herself down the ramp, her fin sliding fully under the blue waters. “Tell Harry thank you.” 

“Wait, what do you mean?” he asked, his voice pitched highly as his control wavered. 

She ducked fully into the water, her head and shoulders just showing. “Tell him thank you for sending you. You’ve been everything I needed to mend parts of my human life I couldn’t resolve. Draco, thank you.” She looked at him, a lonely look in her eyes, and her face contorted in such a way, the urge to reach out and hold her was overwhelming. “I can’t change what I am now. It’s best for you to leave. Let me be. Go home, tell Harry I’m fine, and live your life.” 

“Hermione, please don’t do this.” 

“It’s the only way.”

She sank into the darkness, leaving him alone next to the waters that he couldn’t dive into. It wasn’t fair, all he wanted was to go after her - to make her see sense. 

* * *

  
Draco came to the ramp the next day. He pondered using the few spells he had left on the temporary wand he was given to go underwater and try to find her, but in the end he talked himself out of it. It wasn’t worth losing his limited magic, and he trusted she would show up eventually - at least to say goodbye. 

It was when the last hour approached before he had to leave that panic set in. Not only did he have so much more to say to her, he was furious with himself for not being able to save her. He knew that she was watching; he could feel her magic radiating throughout the cove, but she never did reveal herself. Why? Why was she being so bloody hard to deal with. It would have been so much easier to explain the whole situation to her - to let her know what he was going back to. It would have been a comfort to feel her hand in his for one more moment. 

Surely, he had shown her he meant her no harm. It was in this moment of pure dismay that he decided he would remove the blasted bracelet, consequences be damned and stay in order to explain. He wouldn’t move from this fucking rock until she showed her face. 

First, he tried to sever the shackle with a charm, but it was in vain. He wasn’t really shocked that it didn’t work, that would have been too easy. Next, he tried to melt it away, but he ended up burning his flesh instead, the large angry blister throbbing in pain on his wrist. Finally, he attempted to remove it by simply sliding it over his wrist, but as it worked towards his knuckles, the jewelry would grow smaller, squeezing his fingers together tightly. One more attempt at magic, and he realized that he was out - the wand waving uselessly in his hand like a broken stick. 

He looked out to the ocean, the sky meeting the horizon as if the world dropped off its edge where they joined. Draco wanted nothing more than to bring her home with him. Over the course of the day, he had mourned the situation, his heart wishing for everything to be different. He was truly fucked in every way. Why had his life been such a shit storm? He supposed he was still paying for every wrong decision he’d made in his short life. Now, he’d be carted off to spend the rest of his days in Azkaban. 

The bracelet began to glow and he sighed, giving up. One last glance out to the waters, he solemnly swore. “I won’t tell anyone, Hermione. I know you don’t want that. I’ll only show Potter.” 

The portkey brought him straight to Azkaban. He landed a bit unsteadily and then promptly turned to the side and vomited onto the ground. 

“_ Evanesco _.” 

Draco recognized the voice as Potter's, the edge that shook with the charm reminding him of the rivalry of their youth. Standing up, he wiped an arm over his mouth and looked up to see the occupants of the room. There were only two, Potter and the Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shakelbolt. 

“Were you successful, Draco?” the Minster asked, his deep timbre vibrating through the room. 

Shaking his head, he dropped his eyes to the ground. “I couldn’t bring her home. I’m sorry, Minister.” 

Draco looked up to see the Minister hang his head. “We knew this was a high possibility. I’m so sorry, Harry. It’s time we honour Hermione the way the witch deserved. I will begin the arrangements.” 

The door to the interrogation room slammed shut with Kingsley’s exit. Draco looked to Potter who was staring at him, the anger and doubt flitting across features so easy to read. “You couldn’t bring her home, but there's more isn’t there? I can tell you’re withholding something, Malfoy,” Harry bit out. 

Potter moved from his place against the wall and strode the few paces to him. The Boy Who Lived was a bit shorter than Draco, but his anger had him right up in his face. He knew what he had to say would either be his redemption or the sealing of his fate. It didn’t help that he was feeling extremely defensive and wanted to push Potter out of his space. 

Instead of shoving the git, he stepped into the Aurors space and ground out, “I did find her, but no, I couldn’t bring her home.” 

Harry put two hands on Draco’s chest and shoved him hard. His back hit the hard stone wall, but he didn’t feel the pain. Instead, he felt invigorated. He had so much pent up frustration inside him, and now it seemed to be that he no longer cared. The next moment, his head smacked back against the wall as Harry’s fist collided with his eye. Draco looked to Potter who was now breathing heavy, his fists balled tightly. He could feel his eye throbbing and beginning to swell. 

“Fuck you, Scarhead. If you weren’t such a hotheaded dick, I’d tell you the whole story. She gave me memories to give to you so you’d know she was okay.” 

“I don’t believe you,” Harry screamed back, the raw emotion drowning the room. “I should have never trusted you to begin with. You are the same as always. We know you attempted to remove your bracelet. Because of that, your final sentencing has been set.” 

The gleam in Potter’s eye set Draco’s soul on fire. He should feel scared, he should be angry, he should feel something at least. Instead, he did the only reckless and half brained thing he’d ever done. He lunged forward, wrapping one of his hands around Potter’s wrist and the other securing the man’s fingers tightly over his wand. “I’m not lying. You will take the gift she gave you because that is what a gentleman, and her best friend, should do. After that, you will fuck off and leave me to whatever fate I will have.” 

Forcing Harry’s wand with his own vice like grip, he placed it to his own temple. The images of Hermione came to the forefront of his mind easily - swimming with her in the ocean, laughing over silly things, intense conversations, fingers intertwined protectivally. They danced across his mind and he siphoned them all out, a wisp of his memories floating between the wand and his head. 

Looking at Harry, he’d hoped he’d feel gratification or at the very least smug at the shocked expression on his face. Instead, he felt all the hope drain from him. He hung on to a memory he refused to share with anyone; their kiss and the way she looked when he touched her fin. 

Despair and misery hung over his soul as if a Dementor had just entered the room and drained all his good thoughts. Turning away, he pounded on the door and hollered for a guard, who restrained him with magic and led him from the room where the glaring idiot still stood, holding the memories he’d no longer have of Hermione. 


	6. Clams

Hermione had been sulking for well over a week now. Her heart was broken, but in a way she hadn’t felt before, especially in this form. Her stomach ached and there was a pain in her chest that she couldn’t quite soothe. 

“Hermione, dear, what has happened to you? First, you disappear for large amounts of time, and then you’ve been sullen for too many days,” Lass asked, her tone soft and caring.

Shaking her head, she said, “I don’t know how to explain it. I think I messed up. I  _ know _ I messed it all up.”

Lass approached her, and reached out a hand to stroke her curls. “Talk to me. Surely, it can’t all be bad.”

Hermione explained. She told Thalassa the guilt and remorse she had been feeling about her decision on the cliff. At Thalassa’s frown, she went on to relay her shame for regretting it - she didn’t want to disappoint the siren who had become like a mother to her. She told her about Draco. The man that had somehow tracked her down through her magic, who seemed so different than the boy she knew in her youth. Finally, she admitted that she had sent him away because she couldn’t change the past and he needed to move on with his life. 

Although her heart pounded in her chest the entire time she relayed her story, the lifted weight of not holding tight to it was an immense relief. Thalassa listened closely and quietly to the whole story. When Hermione had finished, she expected the siren to give her words of encouragement or perhaps scold her, but she wasn’t expecting the question she asked. 

“Do you love him?” 

“Surely not,” she exclaimed in surprise. “How could I fall in love with someone in only a couple of days?” Dropping her eyes, she continued, “Besides, what does it matter. I wouldn’t ever be able to be with him anyway.” 

“Perhaps,” was Thalassa’s only response. 

Over the next few days, Hermione had taken to going to the cove. She wasn’t naive enough to deny that she yearned for her face to break the surface of the water and for her to see a man with white-blond hair standing on the cliff, his smile lighting up just for her. It was impossible to imagine, yet she did. And every day, her heart would sink when no one was there. 

She almost convinced herself to stop going, it wasn’t making it easier to move on, but still today, she swam to the surface of the bay. Knowing he wouldn’t be there, she busied herself on the opposite side looking for ingredients for Lass. 

“Hermione! Hermione, hey!” a voice carried over the lapping of the waves. 

Startled, she whipped around. Her brain moving just as fast as her heart, she was let down to not see Draco standing there. As her eyes adjusted to who was calling her name, she got excited to recognize Harry. He was waving like an idiot, the wind ruffling his hair making it more of a wild mess than normal. The scene and feeling inside her was almost like before - before the war, before all the death, before her own peaceful suicide. There he stood, her best friend, and she realized all the emptiness she had once wallowed in was in vain. Here was a man who never stopped looking for her. She found herself smiling for the first time in over a week. 

She swam to meet him as he did his best to climb down the rocks to the water’s edge. When he successfully made it, he crouched down close to the water. His eyes travelled into the depths, seeking his own answers.

“It’s true, then?” 

She moved her fin in the water, coming closer to the ramp and pulling herself up. “Did Draco tell you?”

Harry’s eyes widened at the sight of her large lower half transfigured from once human legs to a mermaid’s tail. His gaze met hers again after a moment. “Well,” Harry started, a sheepish look crawling up his face. 

“Harry Potter,” Hermione warned in a voice that felt foreign yet familiar at the same time.

Harry ran a hand through his fringe, a nervous habit she knew all too well. “He tried to tell me, but he’s so cryptic.” Harry rolled his eyes. “He ended up giving me the memories.” 

She nodded, knowing that Draco would have. “I told him to share them so that you’d know I was okay.” 

“He didn’t share them, Hermione,” he forced out, his tone hard and pained. “He gave them to me. All of them.” 

She shifted, her mind racing to keep up with Harry. There were ways to let someone see your memories in a Pensieve, but why wouldn’t he have taken them back afterwards? 

“As in he didn’t keep them for himself. Why would he do that?”

“That’s why I’m here. Well, not the only reason, but I may have blundered it all up, and now I need your help.” His green eyes searched hers, but what he was seeking, he didn’t say. 

“What’s wrong, Harry?” Her words were soft and she reached out to touch his arm. 

He put his palm over hers and rushed out, “He attempted to break his bracelet which has triggered extreme repercussions - the Wizengamot decided to give him his final sentence, but when I . . .” 

She was so confused; anger and frustration were beginning to boil inside her body and mind. Her tone came out harsh, “Wait, what do you mean final sentence? And what about the bracelet?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Harry shook his head, his hair falling over his glasses. “Malfoy has been in Azkaban since pretty much the end of the war. I told him that I would testify on his behalf if he brought you home. When he didn’t bring you home, I . . . didn’t.” 

“Well, do it now, Harry. You see I’m alive and well.” 

“It’s not that simple. He was given a lot of grace to be sent on this rescue mission. When he failed and he attempted escape, it looked pretty bad to the Wizengamot. It didn’t help that he refused to tell anyone he did indeed find you or what happened to you. So, they think he just tried to run for it. Hermione, they’ve sentenced him to the Kiss.” 

Fear and shock radiated through her body like an electric current. “What?!” You can’t let this happen.” She made to stand, her lack of legs momentarily forgotten. Instead of standing she slid down the ramp and splashed into the water. Her fumble immediately forgotten, she frantically gestured with her arms and shrilly let out, “Harry! Go save him. Tell them I’m alive and I don’t care if they know what I’ve become, just save him, please.” 

A tear slid down her cheek, and Harry reached out, unable to comfort her from his spot on the rocks. “What he showed me, Hermione . . . Is it real?” 

She looked up to him, his face void of a readable emotion. “Is what real?” 

“The way he looked at you when you talked was obvious enough. And you may be oblivious yourself, but you looked happy in a way I’ve never seen you with someone - you looked peaceful.” 

“I can’t explain it, Harry. And it doesn’t matter, anyway.” Her frustration was back, still laced with panic. “I’m a fucking mermaid now if you haven’t already noticed.” 

“I need your help, Hermione,” he whined, ignoring her profanity. 

“And how in the bloody hell do you expect me to do that?” Her arms raised in the air again and came splashing back down. 

In their argument, neither of them noticed a different being rising from the sea to join their conversation. “Hermione, dear, what has you so worked up?” 

Hermione’s eyes grew large as she turned to see Thalassa gracefully swimming towards them. She watched as the siren’s eyes flashed dangerously to the man on the rocks. Suddenly, she was a bit frightened of Lass, her dark hair glistening a sinful way. 

“Lass,” she stuttered out. Harry’s eyes were locked on the siren and she could tell defiance was warring with the threat. “This is Harry. He is . . . from my past.” 

Without breaking eye contact with Harry, she queried, “Is he the one that hurt you?” Her voice was menacing in a way Hermione had never heard it before. 

“No, well yes, but no, not in the way I remembered at least.” 

A hurt look crossed over Harry’s features, and his attention drifted from the approaching siren to Hermione. 

“What do you want, human?” 

Breaking his gaze from Hermione’s, she watched as Harry stood tall and proud, his warrior within easily donned. “I am not here to hurt Hermione or you. I come seeking help.” Thalassa was quiet, her attention never wavering from Harry. He continued, “It’s about our friend, he’s in trouble, and Hermione is the only one who can save him.” 

“And how is she to save him?” 

With this question, Harry’s face fell. He looked like he had just now realized what a futile pursuit this had been. Meeting Hermione’s gaze again, his shoulders sagged. “I don’t know.” 

Silence pressed heavily on them; the only noises littering the air were the splashing of water and calls of the seagulls. Hermione watched Harry as he accepted defeat, a look she wasn’t used to witnessing. Turning her attention to Thalassa, she was surprised to see an edge of pain in the siren’s face. Immediately, she swam the short distance to her, grasping her upper arm. 

“Lass, what is it?” 

The siren turned her face to meet Hermione’s eyes for the first time since coming to the surface. Her blue eyes were darker, somber, and her mouth tilted down in a frown. 

“Hermione, love, do you want to go back?” 

Tears sprang to Hermione’s eyes, the question not only stunning her, but the emotion flooding from her sea-mother was overwhelming. “Oh, Lass, I don’t know. I can’t leave you.” 

Thalassa placed a gentle hand on Hermione’s face. She leaned into the embrace, relishing in the feel of a mother’s hold. “There is magic I can do. There is a way for you to become human again. Do you love him?” 

Breathing deep, Hermione ran through the images in her mind. Each one had her reminiscing in ways she yearned to feel again. He had brought her back, made her realize things about herself. Most of all, he accepted her, and given her the gift of loving herself. Resolution hit her hard, she was in love with Draco Malfoy. How, she couldn’t explain, but it didn’t matter if she could explain it or not. What mattered was, he was going to die without her, and she couldn’t live as a mermaid or a human knowing that she could have saved him, but didn’t. 

Nodding, she said, “I do.” 

“My sweet maid. You have given me so much life. I was not lucky enough to find love like you before, but you have been a love that has filled my heart and soul. I don’t want to let you go, but that is selfish of me. It’s time for you to live the life you were supposed to. This life, here with me, was just in passing while you realized your life on land is exactly where you are meant to be.” 

The tears were flowing fast down Hermione’s cheeks, dropping into the salty water. Pain licked her soul for she knew that this was a goodbye that would last forever. “Thank you for saving me. Thank you so much.” Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around Thalassa relishing in the siren’s every-present scent of ocean herbs. 

Running her hands down Hermione’s back, she squeezed and pressed a kiss to her head. Pulling back, she quietly said, “When the sun lowers in the sky and meets with the water’s edge, you will find your legs awaiting you. Your earth and soul magic will return, and you will be a human once more.” The siren pushed Hermione towards Harry and the rocky ramp. Her eyes left Hermione’s briefly and bored into the man’s on the ledge. The look she gave him meant something that Hermione couldn’t process, but Lass lifted Hermione’s hand to meet Harry’s outstretched one. 

“Take care of her, human.” 

Moving away, Hermione reached out with her free hand. “Wait, Lass. Please, not yet.” 

She turned, a smile on her face and pride in her eyes. “It’s time, my love. This is our fate.”

Long black locks swam away from the cove. Before she dipped under the surface she turned around for one last glance. Thalassa opened her mouth and while she couldn’t hear the words from this distance, they echoed through the waves that crashed over the rocks. 

“I, Thalassa, last Siren to the Clan of Maids, give my life so that she may walk again on the land where she belongs. So that she may seek her happiness and so that she may be full.” Slowly, she sunk elegantly into the waters. 

It was then that Hermione knew why Lass had put her palm in Harry’s and the intense look she gave him. Harry’s grip hardened over her fingers crushing them together, but she still pulled hard, attempting to rip herself from his hold and go after the siren. 

Harry held her on the ramp. The tears flowed heavily, drying for a bit only to resume their way down her face again. The sun was beginning to sink in the sky when he finally spoke. 

“It’s almost time, Hermione. Let me take you home.” 

The numbing feeling was only a plaster to the deep ache in her gut, but she also knew there was a life that could still be saved. It was really her only resolve in the moment. As the orange orb dipped behind the ocean’s edge, she felt the first effects in her tail. 

A tingling began to ripple up the edges, making it feel like each of her scales was vibrating. A warmth crept down from her belly and slowly began to dissolve away the top of her tail. Her scales shimmered and shook, melting away into her body. Her legs began to appear, fed by the magic that once was her tail fin. 

Curling her toes, she felt the cold of the water that moments before had felt like a warm bath. She turned to Harry with an awed expression blatant on her face. 

* * *

The Portkey journey across the world had her stomach spinning and threatening to hurl the contents of it on the ground. She gripped her head with her hand in an attempt to steady herself. They had landed in an office with a large mahogany desk in the center and tall bookshelves along the walls. 

“Where are we?” she asked, taking in her surroundings while still trying not to vomit. 

“The Ministry.” 

Harry was unusually quiet, but he was rifling through drawers of the desk in a furious manner. He first pulled a glass vial from the top drawer and then pulled three more from another. Last, he went to the bookshelf and grabbed a long box that sat next to a framed picture of himself, Ron, and Hermione. Rushing back to her, he handed her one of the vials. “These are his memories. I don’t need them, but hopefully, if we succeed, he’d take them back as my apology. Give them to him as soon as you can, but don’t let anyone see you doing it.” Shoving the box into her other hand, he explained, “I think you’ll be missing this.” 

She opened the wooden lid to peer inside. Her wand laid perfectly centered on silk. Her eyes opened wide in surprise and her mouth dropped open. “Harry, how?”

“Narcissa Malfoy.” Her eyes opened in surprise, and she looked up to him, his face pinched with emotion. 

“What is it, Harry?” 

“I guess I just I don’t understand why it was so hard for me to find you, when it was so easy for Malfoy.” 

She smiled sadly at him, knowing he was still attempting to work through his thoughts and feelings regarding this whole ordeal that had lasted too long. “I don’t know either, but what I do know is that because Draco found me, he was able to lead you to me. You two broke through the magical wards in an effort to find me. Thank you for never giving up on me, Harry.” 

He gave her his best smile and gestured to her vine wood wand. As she ran her fingers gently over it, she felt the magic course through her body, raising the hairs on her arms. The sensation was parallel with what she felt when she first held it, that the same feeling of excitement flooded through her. She pulled it from the box and wrapped her fingers around it. A whole new belonging solidified inside her. 

“Let’s go save Draco. It’s been far too long since we've had an adventure together.” 

Harry’s lips curled up on the edges, and he breathed a sigh before making towards the door, his own wand drawn and three glass vials gripped firmly in his left hand. “Let’s go.” 

They made quick work of getting down to the court rooms. Harry explained that Draco had been removed from Azkaban for his hearing, and had not been taken back after the sentencing. The Kiss was to be administered here in the Ministry so that due diligence was taken in keeping control over the Dementors. When the lift door opened, a chill rushed towards them. Immediately, Harry’s stag appeared and guided them down the hallway even though they could not see the Dark Creature anywhere. 

As they approached the courtroom, Hermione shook with nerves. “Harry, what if we’re too late.” 

“We’re not, but we are cutting it rather close.” 

He reached for the knob and opened the door. As they moved inside, still guided by the enormous stag, Hermione’s breath was swiftly pulled from her lungs. Draco’s body was stiff on the table. She couldn’t tell if he was alive or dead. 

“It’s just a body-bind, Hermione. He’s not dead,” Harry whispered to her. 

Her breathlessness continued as she looked up to see the whole of the Wizengamot. They were staring down on them, confusion and alarm marring the atmosphere. It was Kingsley’s voice she recognized as he spoke loudly. “Harry, what is going on?” 

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Minister, but I believe I have evidence to prove that Malfoy . . . Draco, is innocent of the crimes for which he has been sentenced for.” 

The crowd burst out; some gasping in outrage while others tittered with confusion. Kingsley once again spoke over everyone. “Explain yourself.” 

“Minister, I have procured three memories in which I have held onto that may be beneficial to understanding Draco’s character and his wrong-doings during the war.” He held his palm open, and the vials were summoned by Kingsley. “And finally, I have brought Hermione home.” 

Hermione shrunk next to Harry as the small assembly began to gasp and talk loudly, all eyes focused on her. “Go on, Hermione. Tell them what you can. Tell them what they need to know, and give him back his memories.” Harry’s words were soft, meant only for her ears, which soothed her anxious nerves. 

Clearing her throat, she took a step forward closer to the frozen body lying on the table. She noticed his eyes, a dark molten colour, were dancing from side to side. He was attempting to find her, but the curse was too strong - he couldn’t move. Shifting next to him, she placed her hand, wand gripped tightly, on his arm. Looking around the room, she held the memories in her left hand by his head. From this angle, the members of the court could not see as she tipped the vial, letting the contents swirl over the table top. Using her wand, she guided them back to him. To others it would look as if she was simply rubbing his arm. At first, he was shocked, but then his eyes softened, and she couldn’t read them anymore. 

“Miss Granger, first, please move away from the prisoner.” She sought his eyes once more before taking a deep breath and stepping away from Draco. The Minister continued, “You have been declared dead. No one could find you for three years. How does your story have anything to do with this man?” 

“Draco found me, but I asked him not to tell anyone. I didn’t want to be found.” 

“That does not explain why he broke the very important condition of not removing his monitoring bracelet,” someone in the crowd jeered. 

Harry stepped up next to Hermione, his arm pressed against hers in support before he addressed the court. “Minister, please take a look at these memories. You’ll find that Draco lowered his wand the night Dumbledore fell. He was not going to kill him. You’ll also see memories of him as he refused to identify myself during the hunt in which he helped to procure our way out. You’ll see the hard work he has put in to the efforts of finding Hermione. This man might be a lot of things, but he does not deserve to lose his soul.” 

“Very well, we will take an hour to review the evidence and will reconvene.” 

Harry and Hermione were ushered from the room, the buzz of talk ranging from eager fascination to tones of disbelief. They sat in the hallway together, the sixty minutes taking longer than anything she’d ever felt before. She sat on the bench, her leg bouncing anxiously, before she finally stood up to pace the spot in front of the courtroom. Finally, when the door was opened, they were asked to reenter. 

“We have a question,” Kingsley demanded the moment they were inside.

Harry stepped forward, but stopped when the Minister held up his hand. “Not of you, Harry, but of Hermione.” 

Legs still trembling from the newness of them, she took a step forward. While her nerves urged her to hang her head as if she had done something wrong, her spirit raised her chin, her eyes seeking out the wizards and witches in front of her. 

“How is it that Harry and the Ministry couldn’t find you, but Mr Malfoy could?” 

“Do you believe in fate, Minister?” She watched as a few heads inclined slightly, while others narrowed their eyes suspiciously in her direction. “I always have, but I never understood the path that it takes. The road can be bumpy and full of twists and turns. Sometimes, we make mistakes, and those decisions take us places where we learn lessons - lessons that aren’t simple. I promise you no promises, but the waters are deep and you can’t always see the bottom.” She took a deep breath, tears stinging her eyes as she thought of Lass. “Draco doesn’t deserve to be punished anymore than he already has for his past. To simply answer your question, Minister, Draco found me because he is exceptional at tracking magic, but he was only able to render the wards of the . . . of where I was because he cares for me. It’s the only way Harry was able to get through them too.” 

Her magic couldn’t die, because it was fated to be brought back to save Draco. He traced her and broke the wards, and from the tiny hints that Harry had given her, Draco had feelings for her before he even broached the mermaid’s cove. Hermione may have been rescued by the mermaids, but it was Thalassa who truly saved her. And just as she said, her time as a mermaid was a waiting period between what was fated for her. She waited, the eyes of the room shifting from her as they whispered to each other. 

Finally, Kingsley spoke, “The Ministry has decided to lift the sentence of the Kiss. Mr Malfoy has paid for his earlier indiscretions during the war and is now a free man. We thank him for his aid in locating you, Miss Granger. Welcome home.” 

Hermione smiled brightly up at the Minister who was looking down on her fondly. She turned from him and turned to the man on the table, the body-bind curse lifted and his eyes desperately searching for her. So many thoughts were running wild in her mind - everything had moved so swiftly since this morning.

Her constantly questioning mind was struck dumb as Draco’s eyes found her. They darkened with emotions plainly screaming from the look on his face. The whole world dropped away as he made his way to her. His long strides took him in front of her in only five steps, and he reached out placing both of his palms on her cheeks. He searched her face, then ran his eyes down her body and back up. His assessment of her being whole solidified, he leaned down to rest his forehead against her own. 

“You’re here,” his voice strained. “How is this possible?” 

She reached up to place her hands over his, and closed her eyes. His breathing came in shallow puffs matching her own as she fought to hold back her emotions, relishing in the feel of his breath on her face. 

When he pulled back, she answered his question. “Magic.” 

He huffed a laugh and leaned down to capture her lips with his own. 

She had yearned for his touch from the second she left after that first kiss. It burned against her lips, and his touch did things to her body she wasn’t accustomed to. 

Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably next to them and they broke apart to meet the noise. His cheeks were tinged pink, and Hermione smiled shyly. “So, now what?” Harry asked lamely. 

“I don’t know about you two, but I’m starving,” Hermione said. 

“What sounds good?” Harry asked, his voice lighting up at the mention of food. 

Draco’s gaze never wavered from her face, and his hands slowly ran down her arms to grasp her hands in his own. Hermione smiled brightly, meeting Draco’s face. “Clams!” 


End file.
